


Silver and Red

by crookedspoon



Series: Exchange Fics [86]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Blood and Violence, Kidnapping, M/M, Rescue, Writing Rainbow Flash Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: Rufus has been kidnapped. Sephiroth bails him out.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Rufus Shinra
Series: Exchange Fics [86]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/51139
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19
Collections: Writing Rainbow Silver





	Silver and Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neurotoxia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/gifts).



"Negotiations fell through," his captor says, although Rufus could have told him that before they went through the trouble of dragging him all the way out to wherever they are. The room is dank and dusty, its walls made out of rough stone, so Rufus thinks he's being held underground where no one would hear him scream.

Even if he weren't gagged, he wouldn't have chanced that right away. Who knows what else he might attract. He's not keen on falling into the hands of yet another anti-Shinra faction, of which there seems to be no dearth. They're like weeds, sprouting where you're not looking and undermining the structures you've built. Pull out one and another will grow in its stead.

He used to play them against each other, even hire them to kidnap him on occasion, until he grew bored of it. There's no real excitement when you organised your disappearance yourself. This, now this is the real deal, but Rufus is too drugged up to get any real enjoyment out of it.

"Your daddy didn't want you back after all," the guy says. His voice is surprisingly deep for such a lanky man. With an arm that looks too thin to carry a gun, much less lift it, he points the muzzle straight at Rufus's forehead. 

Rufus is not usually the one on the wrong end of the barrel, but it happens, and just like it usually does, adrenaline hits him like a Monodrive on a rampage. He assesses the ways in which he might get out of the situation, which aren't many. He can't talk his way out, and he's still woozy from the drugs they've administered to keep him down. He might be able to kick the gun out of his captor's hands, or he could throw himself to the side if he's fast enough. It's an older model, and Rufus wonders if the kick of the recoil might knock the man back, enough for him to escape... and then what? Rufus has no idea how many guards there are outside, so even if he managed to untie himself and snatch the gun before his captor recovered, there's a chance he's not making it out alive.

There's no time to ponder that, however, because shouts are coming from outside and the next moment the door is thrown open and the guards pour inside. Not to stage a coup and rescue Rufus, but to fall back and give themselves more room to evade whatever force is fighting them. A fireball streaks across the open doorway and more people shriek.

The lanky gunman curses and springs toward Rufus, a knife suddenly in his hand. Rufus tries to evade, but all he does is upset the chair. He crashes to the side, his shoulder and head knocking against the stone floor. 

Rufus must have hit his head harder than expected, because through the dark spots that float across his vision he thinks he can make out the form of Sephiroth. Which is ridiculous, of course, his father would never have sent him to bail Rufus out even if Sephiroth had not been overseeing the war efforts in Wutai.

Still, even hallucinations of Sephiroth are a welcome change of scenery. Rufus watches in rapt fascination as the Sephiroth of his overactive imagination slices his way through the ranks of Rufus's captors with economical ease, not a single step wasted. Rufus has had many occasions to watch Sephiroth over the years and he's so intimately acquainted with the way he moves that he has no trouble calling it to mind.

The man who had held Rufus at gunpoint and is now uselessly holding a knife in front of him is the last to fall to Sephiroth's sword. His head flies off his shoulders in an arc. Warm blood sprays Rufus. On instinct, he lifts his hand to wipe it from his face and – the moment he touches his face, he realises that he's no longer bound. He must have been cut loose so that his captor could escape with him.

The clatter of a sword brings his attention back to his rescuer. He is quite unlike Sephiroth as he stumbles over the bodies in his haste to get to Rufus.

"Are you hurt?" he asks and proceeds to pat him down for injuries, without waiting for a reply. His face is almost black with blood and would be unrecognisable if not for those feline eyes. Or his pretty mouth. Rufus loves kissing that mouth.

He reaches out to grab a fistful of silver hair that's clumped together and flecked with red, just to make sure it's really there.

"Rufus?"

Rufus wants to say that he had it all under control, but all that comes out of his mouth is: "It's really you."

"I came looking as soon as I heard."

"Wutai?" he asks, more out of habit than because he's dying to know. 

"Unimportant. You're bleeding."

"It's not mine."

Sephiroth peels back his sleeve to reveal a gash down Rufus's forearm. His captor must have been careless when he cut his bonds.

"Okay. So maybe it is."

A materia in Sephiroth's bangle begins to glow and Rufus's arm itches like crazy as the skin knits itself back together. The fog in his head clears. He becomes aware of how grimy he is and, worse, of how exhausted Sephiroth looks. His skin is shockingly pale beneath the coating of blood, but his sunken eyes are shining with relief.

He can't help himself (he can never help himself where Sephiroth is concerned): he slides his bloody fingers into Sephiroth's hair, grabbing fistfuls of it and pulling Sephiroth closer. Their kiss is not as eager as it could have been – they're usually more spirited upon reuniting – but it's just what he needs.

Sephiroth braces himself on trembling arms as he pulls back. He must have taxed himself greatly in freeing Rufus, and healing him. Rufus knows this kind of loyalty can never be bought with money or titles, which is the only way ShinRa knows how to ensure it. This goes deeper. How funny to think that a friendship forged in childhood to banish loneliness would have such a lasting impact.

Rufus runs his fingers through the gore on Sephiroth's face, drags them down his cheek and over his blood-spattered neck, leaving three parallel lines in his wake. He's always taken Sephiroth's strength for granted – has at times taken Sephiroth himself for granted – but seeing him at such a disadvantage does things to Rufus.

"I want you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Here?"

"Did anyone follow you?" Rufus sits up, ready to roll Sephiroth onto his back at a single word. 

"No, but..." Sephiroth casts a glance around the room. "There might be reinforcements."

"Fine," he says, although he doubts it. Either way, they can't stay here, no matter how much Rufus wants to continue running his bloody fingers over Sephiroth's pale skin. He's used to waiting. Their relationship is made up of long intervals of longing; they take their fill of each other when they can. Perhaps that is why his first instinct is to bed Sephiroth right here, without further delay. He's waited too long already.

Yet whether or not Sephiroth is right, their surroundings are distasteful and Rufus doesn't feel his cleanest. He smells, for one thing. Sephiroth deserves better than that. Better than a cold stone floor and an unwashed boyfriend at the very least.

Rufus steals another bloody kiss, then stands and offers Sephiroth his hand. Sephiroth looks up at him and smiles that haunting smile that always makes his knees go weak. 

"You'll need to stop that if we want to get out of here," he says.

"Stop what?"

"You know exactly what I mean." Rufus grunts as Sephiroth uses his proffered hand to pull himself upright.

"Perhaps I want you to tell me," he says when they are face to face.

"Which one of us wanted to get out of here, and fast?" It irks Rufus a little that he has to raise himself on tiptoes to brush his lips against Sephiroth's, but at least Sephiroth is willing to meet him halfway.

"Touché," he says and Rufus can _feel_ his smile this time. "Perhaps there are more comfortable spots upstairs?"

Amusement crinkles Rufus's eyes. He likes where this is going. "Provided you haven't burned them all to ashes."

"We could check." Said with such innocence you would almost believe it. "And wash up, at least."

Rufus is not a believer. "Let's," he says with a final kiss to Sephiroth's plush lips before dragging him out of the stone cube that had been his cell for the past two days. Freedom has seldom tasted sweeter.


End file.
